


Tag, You're It

by mousapelli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Otabek sucks at social media, Social Media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 04:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousapelli/pseuds/mousapelli
Summary: Otabek thought he was getting better at this whole SNS thing, but then came the algorithms.





	Tag, You're It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2018 SportsFest, Bonus Round 1. Written for Mugenn. Poor Otabek. He just likes art.

Otabek is getting better at social media, really. He wasn't bad at it before, he understood what it was for and how to use it in a basically official capacity. At Yuri's loud and repeated insistence, Otabek now at least checks his SNS a few times a day, enough to answer Yuri's snaps and find out whose been @-ing him, and occasionally have a side conversation with some of the other more SNS-addicted members of his friends-of circle like Leo, Guanghong, and lately by extension Phichit. Katsuki has been more active as well too, although only as a consequence of being tagged on Victor's more questionable posts, and for some reason that amuses Otabek more deeply than it probably should.

Today as he commutes to his rink, not much is happening yet, as it's too early in the morning for most of Team Internet to be lucid, and many of them are together at the training camp in Canada which means they selfie more but post in general less. Otabek flicks through some pictures of Christophe's cat, Phichit and Guanghong watching a horror movie WAY too late, and a short video from JJ that nothing on earth can make him play on public transit.

Near the top is a recommended popular tweet that has his handle tagged, and when he clicks in out of curiosity, finds a piece of fan art which, while romantic enough to make him a little uncomfortable, is so well done and detailed that he actually uses two fingers to unpinch it bigger. He wishes that his butt looked that good in aquamarine spandex, and honestly he sort of wishes as well that Yuri would ever look at him in the warm, hopelessly fond way that art Yuri is throwing over his shoulder as art Otabek pair skates him through a spotlight.

A bump in the bus snaps Otabek back to reality, and he realizes he's going to miss his stop, yanking on the 'stop' cord. He should link Yuri the picture, though, or take a better look at it on his laptop later, but he's already well-versed in how quickly something disappears down his twitter timeline. Otabek thumbs the "favorite" button and then blacks his phone, sliding it into his pocket.

Warmups and the start of early practice go as they usually do, the cold a pleasant shock as he comes in out of the heat already warming Almaty's sidewalks, peaceful until some of the younger children his coach manages shows up. Otabek sits on a bench for a ten minute water break and idly checks his phone screen, only to double-take when it tells him he has roughly 50 notifications.

"Oh god," he grumbles to himself.

Without even touching Twitter, he opens his chat app to ask Yuri what he did now, only to be greeted with a text from an hour ago reading [WHAT DID U DO?! CALL ME RIGHT NOW].

"Uh-oh." Sighing, Otabek flips open his contacts list and pushes down on Yuri's picture. "Please be at practice please be at practice please—"

"OTABEK ALTIN," Yuri screeches at him as soon as it connects, face scrunched with fury. "YOU TWEETED FANFICTION OF US, YOU GIGANTIC BUTT."

"I…didn't?" Otabek ventures, entirely confused. He glances up at his coach, but she's thankfully busy, and when he looks back down Yuri is furious but also maybe blushing and that's another kind of distraction. "I've been at practice all morning."

"On your commute!" Yuri snaps. "The fanart?!"

Otabek should lie, he knows he should, but he's so confused that what comes out is, "How do you know about that?"

"Because when you 'like' shit on your feed, it shows the rest of your friends the tweet that you liked!"

"Why?" Otabek's confusion is bleeding rapidly into embarrassment and mild horror. "Who would want that?!"

"NOBODY WANTS THAT!" Yuri hollers at him. "IT'S ALGORITHMS! Did you even look at the link?"

"It was just some art," Otabek says. He realizes that he can hear what sounds like Victor somewhere in the background, out of frame from Yuri's furious face, and Mila and some others wheezing with laughter. "What's Victor doing?"

"He's doing a dramatic reading," Yuri informs Otabek acidly. "Of the FANFICTION that your stupid art LINKED HIM TO."

"Oh." Otabek stares at the ceiling a moment, but it also lacks answers. "Oh god. I didn't mean for that to happen, obviously, I just…thought my butt looked good."

"OHHH BEKA," Victor calls out behind Yuri. "YOUR ASS LOOKS FABULOUS IN AQUAMARINE."

"I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU!" Yuri screeches and then the video turns into a confusion whirl of images as Yuri obviously throws it down and it bounces a few times. It comes to rest dark, face-down Otabek assumes, laughing and shrieking and cursing still coming over the speaker.

Otabek sits quietly on the bench, staring at the floor like he's being punished in grade school, feeling like he should certainly be punished. The worst part is, later he'll actually have to go read it himself; there's simply no way he'll be able to contain his curiosity when he's home later. His phone buzzes in his hand with a few banner notifications, including one from Leo that's nothing but crying laughing faces, so the Western Hemisphere has presumably also discovered his shame by now.

"Ok," Yuri grumbles, the picture shaking and resolving itself into Yuri's glower, his hair falling out of his bun on one side. "You're gonna fucking get it, buddy."

"I'm so sorry," Otabek says sincerely, wincing when Victor's voice sings out, "SURE SOUNDS LIKE HE WANTS IT!" followed by Katsuki's scandalized, "VICTOR"!

Yuri doesn't even flinch, just orders in a low voice, "You better think long and hard all practice how you're gonna make this up to me before you call me later," before hanging up on him.

Otabek buries his face in his hands, and when his coach eventually skates over to ask just what he thinks he's doing taking this long of a break, groans that he doesn't seem currently able to catch one.


End file.
